


Brother

by AngstOfDestiny



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: M/M, Toxic Relationship, not sure if I ever finish it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:59:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngstOfDestiny/pseuds/AngstOfDestiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ajay was attracted to Sabal from the second he laid his eyes on him. By the time he decided to act on it, these feelings moved far past the psychical attraction, so when Sabal not only didn't shy away from him, but seemed to be actually interested, Ajay was ecstatic. Little he knew that Sabal had ulterior motives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: this fic isn't finished and I'm not sure if I'll ever get to write it. But given the general amount of Sajay fics it seemed unfair to sit on these few pages. Fellow Sajay shippers, enjoy!

_When I came to Kyrat I’ve fallen in love: both with the land itself... and with the man. The latter was probably the worst thing that could ever happen to me._

 

The soft, pleading look in …greenish eyes (I still couldn’t really decide what color it really was – all I knew was that it was fascinating), the caring tremble of deep voice.  I couldn’t say I really listened to what he had to say. I was already convinced to do what he asked. I felt bad, forced to choose between him and Amita, but she was definitely wrong on this one – she might claim she wanted to finance development with money from opium and heroin, but I’ve already saw how many Kyrati were addicted. Drugs were everywhere. That was something that had to be stopped if the country was ever to become a good place to live. So, instead of listening I only heard, but then Sabal was making a very convincing argument even without words. His face, his eyes, the velvety voice – that was enough. Something warm was clenching my guts when I looked at him and remembered the first time I saw his face – just after witnessing what De Pleur was doing in the basement. He looked like an angel then, even with his gun pointed at me. And then he got just better, taking me away from Pagan stabbing people with his pen, from Paul electrocuting a man in the basement, from the luxury couches next to the interrogation room, from the shooting at the checkpoint. I’ve thought I was tough when I arrived, but nothing I experienced in USA could prepare me for the madness that was Kyrat.

Following an impulse I’ve reached for him, placing a hand on the nape of his neck (pleasantly smooth and warm) and pulled him into a sudden kiss. I probably shouldn’t have – I had no idea, how he’d react, if he wouldn’t get offended – or even if being gay was socially acceptable in Kyrat – but his lips were too tempting, too enchanting. He stiffened for a moment, surprised, then returned the kiss, embracing me a little bit awkwardly. That must have been a first for him.

His lips were warm and eager, however, his stubble softly scratching my skin. I fell, I realized, and I fell hard. It probably wasn’t fair to Rob, who stayed in Chicago after our disagreement, but at the moment I couldn’t care less. Rob hadn’t saved my life, Rob never was so passionate about anything, Rob didn’t have so enchanting eyes and voice.

But then reality struck and I pulled away in haste, ashamed.

“I… I am sorry. I shouldn’t have”, I managed to utter. “I couldn’t help myself...”

Sabal smiled – actually smiled – a warm, reassuring smile. He put his finger on my mouth, answering with a hint of a promise, though in my state of mind I was probably hearing things:

“I’ll send you my coordinates once you’re finished. We will meet then, brother.”

I didn’t want to leave; I wanted to stay, to taste his lips once again. But I didn’t want to disappoint him either.

“I’ll hold you to that”, I said simply, turning away from him.

The temple looked magnificent in the sunshine, as I noticed absently, shuffling through the weapon crates. Something in the color of the water reminded me distinctly of Sabal, even if I couldn’t really pinpoint what it was. In a moment of self-awareness I realized that I still felt aftertaste of his lips on my tongue and that I probably didn’t need any real correlation to think of him constantly. And he promised…

He didn’t promise anything to be honest, but it sounded like promise and right now it was absolutely enough.  

 

***

Sabal was looking at the door with a frown, touching absently his  lips. That was… unexpected. But also surprisingly pleasant.  He could work with that, he decided. Kyrat needed the son of Mohan Ghale to be her hero; Kyra needed him to be her champion. And if there was anything that Sabal could do to keep him from swaying – he will do it. Ajay was already convinced by Amita to do her bidding once; it can’t happen again.

It was maybe a bit… untraditional, but despite all Amita might claim, he noticed that the times had changed. And Ajay… He had Kyrat in heart, Sabal knew it, but he was raised away from his legacy. He needed guidance. And if that was a way to provide it – it must have been given to him by Kyra herself. And he wasn’t the one to weaver in the face of trial. Ajay’s attraction to him could be put to a good use, so he’ll do it. It was vital to keep the boy’s heart pure.

***

The fields were scattered around the plantation and the shipments were hidden in the building in the center of the complex. It was also heavily guarded, royal soldiers everywhere. I had to focus, but still, somewhere in the back of my head I heard warm voice, promising we’ll meet soon. I felt impatient. The fields couldn’t burn fast enough.

But, fortunately it was the last one. Last field and I can radio Sabal.

It happened too fast. One second I was thinking about the green-eyed man, the next I was bending in half in pain. It seemed that my vest took one bullet too much. I’ve looked around, to see flash of the red uniform behind the low wall on my right. I dropped my bow – no way I was going to draw the string right now – and produced a sidearm. It was a dumb luck that the bullet went straight through his eye. Maybe this Kyra really protected me, as Sabal claimed.

I run to the car, clutching at my ribs violently. I’ve been hit before – but I don’t remember ever being in such a pain. It must’ve been worse than usual. Getting into a car, I radioed Sabal.

“Plantation is a toast”, I managed to say. “But I got hit. Heading to the outpost.” There was no need to say that it seemed to be bad – no one would mention a flesh wound. Not here.

“Shit”, I’ve heard the answer. Sabal’s silken voice was filled with worry. Despite the pain I’ve felt sudden fuzziness in my chest. “Keep moving, I’m sending someone to get you.” He disconnected and I fought the dizziness, stepping on the gas pedal. I had to get somewhere before I pass out.

The radio buzzed again.

“Ajay?” I heard urging voice. “Ajay? Talk to me, brother.”

“Yeah, I’m still here”, I answered wearily.

“I’m getting on a buzzer right now. I’ll be there as soon, as possible. But now speak to me. What happened at the plantation?”

“I’ve burnt the opium and I’ve got shot”, I answered. I wasn’t really in talkable mood. I wanted to rest.

“Focus, brother. Eyes on the road and tell me how exactly did it happen?”

I told him. Word by word, each one taking more effort than previous. I didn’t mention, however, that I was thinking about him. I felt he wouldn’t approve.

But then there was a blue van with golden kukris on the mask approaching.

“I see our men”, I said wearily, stepping on brackets.

“Good. I’ll see you soon, brother.”

I stumbled out of the car, blinded by pain, and weaved wearily, halting the rebels.

“It’s Ghale!”, I’ve heard, as they approached, someone helping me up, someone pulling me up on the back of the van, someone speaking Hindi too fast for me to understand. Finally, sprawled at the back of the van I passed away, knowing that I’m relatively safe for now.

***

Sabal sat his buzzer down near the building. Nervous movement around the perimeter told him that he got the place right. This was the outpost closest to the tea factory, but then he couldn’t have been sure that Ajay went the right way when he was escaping.

“It’s Sabal”, he heard somewhere, and the faces turned to him.  

“Where’s he?” He asked.

“Ghale?” the lieutenant in his forties (Sabal knew the guy, what was his name…) pointed at the building. “Geeti is already working on him.”

“Good.” He decided not to worry about the soldier’s name for now and hurried inside, hearing soft murmur of whispers behind him. He wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t usual for him to fly in just to check on the wounded soldier. But then, usually it wasn’t the son of Mohan who was wounded.

He opened the door forcefully. Ajay was lying on bed, stripped from his jacket and shirt. He was alarmingly pale, his jaw clenched and his forehead shining with sweat. The ruined vest was lying on the floor.

Beside the bed stood a table full of makeshift surgical tools. The girl kneeling by the bed was surprisingly young. She couldn’t be much older than Bhadra.  

“How is he?” He asked, closing the door and approaching the bed.

“The bleeding isn’t severe, but the bullet went deep”, girl’s answer was calm. “It’s stuck between two ribs, no wonder he’s in such pain.”

“Are you able to get it out?” Asked Sabal with a frown.

“I’ll try my best”, she promised solemnly.

“Sabal… You came.” Ajay’s voice was weak, but heavy with emotion. The older man smiled at him gently.

“I promised you I would, brother.” Ajay smiled, but then cried out in pain, as Geeti did something Sabal couldn’t see.

“Can’t you give him something? Some booze, anything?” He asked angrily. He knew, of course, that it was their reality. That every soldier suffered like that sooner or later. But for some reason he just couldn’t stand seeing the Mohan’s son in such pain.

“If I gave him booze I would have a huge problem with stopping bleeding once I get that out”, she answered calmly. “He’ll manage.”

Sabal gritted his teeth.

“Weed?” He asked. Geeti raised her head.

“If you find anything, brother, then be my guest”, she answered sourly. “I offered him opium, but he didn’t want it.”

Sabal wasn’t sure if he was more angry or relieved. He despised hard drugs and was in some way glad that Ajay refused… but then, the fool wouldn't hurt so much if he smoked a bit. There were times when you really needed to dumb your senses.

He sat by the bedside, putting one hand on Ajay’s knee. The younger man smiled through tears.

“You should take some, brother. There’s no need for you to endure that.”

Ajay shook his head wearily.

“No. I don’t do drugs…” He inhaled loudly, grasping at the edges of the mattress.  “…Anymore.”

“Can I do anything?” He asked with resignation. Geeti shook her head, but Ajay raised his head a bit.

“Stay, please”, he pleaded.

“Not going anywhere, brother”, Sabal promised, squeezing softly the other man’s leg. Ajay smiled, patted blindly the mattress and bit into a wooden spoon he found there. Geeti went back to her work.

***

The pain was blinding, I had problem breathing and I wished I could pass out again, but for some reason I couldn’t.  The metallic thump of the bullet on a plate made me hope that it was over, but apparently, that wasn’t a case.

“The shell’s split”, Geeti said calmly. “I need to get all the flakes out, or the wound will fester. Bear with me.”

I managed to nod, despite the fact that all I wanted was to cry like a baby right now. But there was Sabal’s hand on my thight, emanating warmth and calmness.

“You can do it, brother”, I heard the soft voice and I believed it, just because it was Sabal saying.

Geeti was manipulating at my wound for a time that seemed to be an eternity. I guess I’ve finally passed out once or twice, but not for long enough. But finally the girl put her tweezers down and washed the blood away with a warm cloth. She picked up fabric stripes used here instead of bandages, but much to my – and her – surprise, Sabal took them from her hand.

“I’ll finish that.” He said, shooing her away. “And leave us for a while, please.”

“Thank you”, I managed quietly. Despite the fact that my ribs hurt like a hell, and that I was really tired, I was thrilled to stay alone with Sabal. Still, something felt wrong about the tone in which he was sending her away.

Geeti smiled at me, and shrugged slightly, leaving bandages in Sabal hands.

“As you wish, brother”, she said. “But I’d advise against excessive movement.” How I managed to understand the phrase “excessive movement” In Hindi was a mystery to me. “He should stay put at least for week or two. More, if you can manage it.”

Sabal nodded in an acknowledgement, moving closer and helping me up. The girl left.

“She’s exaggerating”, I murmured, leaning on Sabal’s arm. “I’ll be good to go in a few days.”

“We’ll see, brother”, he answered, bandaging my chest skillfully. His touch was sure, but gentle, and despite the pain it felt amazing to feel his warmth so close. “The Golden Path cannot risk you.”

I puffed with an annoyance and regretted it immediately. It wasn’t the kind of movement that I should be doing right now, judging by the sharp pain in my chest.

“I’m not a tourist anymore, Sabal”, I said quietly. “I don’t need any special privileges. I am…” ‘A soldier’ was going to be my next word, but I stopped, shocked. It was true, I guessed, but how long have I been in Kyrat? Weeks, not even two months. My life in the United States, Rob, mum’s sickness, the whole robbery thing and Kyle hating me for his prison sentence – it all seemed unreal now. Real was Kyrat, the war, warmth of Sabal’s body near me and psychopathic dictator, who called me now and then and called himself my uncle.

“What you are, brother, is the Mohan’s son, a symbol and a prodigy”, answered Sabal quietly. “Our people see that the son of the legend returned. You give them hope, and we can’t lose it.”

I gritted my teeth. I had enough of “Mohan’s son” thing. But before I started to protest, Sabal finished the dressings and kissed me briefly. My heart skipped a bit and I completely forgot what I was going to say.

“And I mean it, when I say you’re a prodigy”, he said quietly, looking at me intensely. “I flew over the tea plantation. Your father would be proud, if he saw what have you achieved today. I need you in a good shape; there aren’t many people able to do what you’ve done.”

The praise felt good, but not good enough.  I looked deep into the entrancing, green eyes and answered, without giving it much thought.

“Screw my father. What about you?”

For a second Sabal looked at me with a shock written all over his face, but then smiled warmly.

“I couldn’t be more grateful that Kyra decided to send you to me”, he answered, combing my hair with his hand. The feeling was so pleasant I almost forgot about my throbbing ribs. “I have no idea, how I managed to live without you.”

I almost forgot to breathe. Did he really say that? Did it mean what I thought it did? Oh, please, God, Kyra, whoever listens – don’t let this be my imagination.

And there it was. Sabal’s callused hand on my chin, pulling me into an adorably awkward kiss.

It was perfect. His warm, inviting mouth tasted with dragonfruit, and once initial shyness passed, he proved to be a really good kisser. His tongue slid between my lips, while he put the other hand on the nape of my neck, pulling me closer.

I arched to him, feeling desperate _need_ to feel his body next to mine, to soak in his warmth and smell… and moaned in pain, breaking the kiss suddenly. Sabal furrowed his brow, looking at me apologetically.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t thought…” he whispered, while I shook my head.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about”, I answered. ”It felt amazing.”

He sighed, looking at me with heartbreaking worry.

“I’m taking you to Banapur, brother”, he said quietly. “You’ll be staying at my house.”

I wanted to ask, if he’s going to be there with me, ask to be there with me, but it was too much, I knew. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t expect the Golden Path’s leader to abandon everything and babysit me for the next few days. I was already touched that he dropped everything to get me from here. So I said nothing.

***

Ajay passed out soon enough and Sabal hurried to organize transport for the boy. It was risky, but leaving him at the outpost was even worse idea; he couldn’t afford, the Golden Path couldn’t afford losing son of Mohan in a skirmish when he couldn’t even fight.

“Take him to Banapur, leave him at my house. Inform Aishwarya and Kajal, tell them that he’s to stay at my place. If… When he wakes tell him I have a few more outposts to inspect, but I’ll be there as soon as possible. I should manage by tomorrow. And don’t take any risks. He’s the son of Mohan and one of the finest soldiers…”

“I know”, interrupted the driver. “Just a week ago he singlehandedly liberated this very outpost. And a few more. I’ll be careful.”

“Fine. Then go.”

He watched for a while as the truck with unconscious Ajay disappeared on the winding road then turned away. He _had_ a work to do, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at elwenka.tumblr.com


End file.
